Sad Again, Naturally

Feeling sad and kind of cold today, in that hollowed-out from the inside way. Mainly because of a long talk yesterday that perhaps wasn't timed or phrased exactly right - but the stuff was on my mind and I couldn't keep squashing it down any more. I felt like a kettle, screaming inside. Anyway, the nicest moment was perhaps the end when we apologized to one another ("Sorry for pressuring you," "Sorry for keeping you hanging,") and had a smooch, but that was about as close to resolution as we got. So, more pressuring and more hanging to be expected in future.

I wish, I wish, this stuff would go easier for me. I feel like I've had to fight for it my whole life, it's never been smooth sailing like for other people. It's not like I have a weird birthmark across my whole face or a dealbreaker cackle, either. I think I am nice, and intelligent, and fun to be with, and I have passable looks that occasionally veer over the line into beauty, depending on the lighting and your perspective. Anyway, I'm good enough. And I have loads of compassion and warmth and generosity, and silly quirks. If I were a guy, I would want to date me. But sadly, guys have not historically taken initiative to do so. I've never had the luxury of sitting back and waiting (nor the patience) - I have had a number of boyfriends, but I have made the first move every time. And the second. etc. So now, having finally found the person I want to be with forever, who makes me damn happy, having tried living with him for a year and YES it works, I'm at an impasse because he doesn't want to move forward and I do.

Now I'm watching all my other friends get married like dominoes, and it almost seems magical to me that their guys WANT to marry them. I feel like there must be some trick to it. How did they get them to propose? Did they drug their coffee? Hit them over the head and elicit a proposal during groggy returning-to-awareness? It brings an ache into my throat, as happy as I am for them. It's like in sixth grade when everyone was getting their periods, and I wasn't. I couldn't figure out what I was doing wrong. I felt so defective, and stupid, especially as time passed and I turned thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen. I finally got mine when I was seventeen and my doctor was on the verge of declaring me a freak of nature. Now everyone is getting married, something that is supposed to happen naturally and beautifully, something that happens to 90% of the population (or more?), something that happens to girls of all sizes and shapes and dispositions. Even the awful ones. But not to me. I've been with my boyfriend for longer than some of my getting-married friends have even known their beloveds, we live together which some of them haven't even tried, we love one another. But the next step just isn't happening. Every time I bring it up, he just gets defensive. Some girls get rings and flowers and parties and dresses and the whole deal. I don't even care about all that. All I want is the guy. I don't even need him to be excited about it, as much as that hurts my feelings - I'd take him, even reluctant and irritable, and hope that later on he'd realize marriage isn't so bad. I feel like his enthusiasm is yet another thing that other girls take for granted, but I have to be willing to do without, like the ring. I'm starting to think that wanting me is, after all, the most critical quality a guy can possibly have, and things like sense of humor, sobriety, intelligence, and non-abusiveness are quite a bit further down on the list.